Tropical Island

Sitting on the cool, firm sand under the palm trees, I taste the salt as the sea breeze caresses me. I squint, looking for Greg. He is a dot in the turquoise of the ocean. Just as I begin to worry, he emerges from the surf, sleek as a seal, and bounds up the beach. He flops down beside me, laughing as he shakes cold ocean spray all over me like a puppy. We are so engrossed in each other that we don’t stay on the beach for long.

“Come on,” he says, helping me to my feet, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Race you to the room.”

I emerged from my reverie, still smiling at the honeymoon memories. Instead of sand, the coarse weave of the rug was rubbing my legs. I was sitting on the floor of our den, not on a tropical beach. I pictured the island again. Greg had bought two tickets for another trip there. He didn’t know that I knew…he’d forgotten to log off his laptop after browsing. I’d have to act surprised when he told me, which wouldn’t be too difficult. He hadn’t done anything so considerate for a very long time. To be honest, he’d never been particularly considerate, even when we were young and hot for each other. In those days I couldn’t believe my luck in snagging him, the hottest guy in his medical school class, little mousy English major me. My sister Susie had never liked him.

“He’s conceited and arrogant and condescending, if you ask me,” she’d said. “If he was chocolate, he’d eat himself. I don’t like the way he treats you, Laura. He takes you for granted.”

“Well, I’m not asking you,” I’d retorted. “Oh, beware my lord, of jealousy! It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.”

I was in the middle of a Shakespeare course at the time and quite insufferable.

Susie had rolled her eyes and marched off, slamming the door behind her.

I resumed daydreaming about the trip. I wouldn’t be wearing the teeny tiny bikinis this time around. After birthing three kids in five years, I had what could now best be termed a matronly figure. Once Greg had left hospital work to join a large pharmaceutical company, I’d thought I’d see more of him since he no longer had to be on call and work night shifts. However, I saw less of him than ever. His new position involved travel to conferences all over the world, hours at the gym and playing tennis. He was as trim as he'd been when we first met.

“Networking, Got to stay in shape,” he’d said when I complained. “Image is important, like it or not. You should exercise more too, Laura. Lose the love handles.”

That hurt, but my suggestion of hiring a nanny to allow me some freedom to go to a gym or travel with him was given short shrift, even though it would have cost less than his golf club membership. I sighed. No point in ruining the trip by fuming over past grievances. The kids were grown and gone now. I had no excuse for not going to the gym. It was a month until the trip. I could lose some weight in a month.

My backside was getting numb from sitting on the floor. Why was I sitting on the floor? I couldn’t quite remember. My memory tended to get a little fuzzy these days after a couple of martinis, but I hadn’t been drinking. No alcohol before five in the evening. I was strict about that. I frowned in concentration as I rewound the day’s events in my mind. I’d woken alone, as usual. Greg had taken to sleeping in the spare room. He didn’t want to wake me when he came home late, or so he said. His story was that they were in the middle of a big project, so long hours were required. I’d wandered downstairs in my robe in the morning and made coffee. That’s when I noticed his laptop and realized he’d booked the trip.

“Hon, that’s so sweet of you,” I’d said when he appeared, suddenly conscious of my frumpy robe and uncombed hair. As usual he'd been immaculately dressed and groomed.

He’d looked at me blankly.

“The trip. You’ve booked the trip, and just in time for our wedding anniversary. I didn't think you'd remember.”

Now that I thought about it, he hadn't said anything. I'd stared in astonishment as he'd turned pale, grabbed the laptop and turned to leave. What had I said? I had asked him what was wrong...he had pushed past me...everything was hazy after that. I still didn't understand how I came to be on the floor of the den. I suddenly heard someone screaming my name. It sounded like Susie. I vaguely remembered that she might be coming by this morning, but why would she make all that racket?

“Laura, Laura, what’s happened?” she said, kneeling beside me, breathless, trembling, tears running down her face. “Are you alright?’

I looked at her, puzzled.

“What do you mean? Why are you being so dramatic?”

She stared at me; her eyes huge.

“My God, you really don’t know? Greg is lying dead on the kitchen floor and there's blood everywhere. There's blood all over you too. Did someone hurt you?”

“No, I spilled my coffee this morning. You’re being silly.”

“Look at it! Look at yourself.”

She grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard. I looked down at my robe. I saw sticky red stains all down my front. My hands were red too. Susie stared at me in horror. She backed away and started dialing.

“Emergency services? Yes, I need an ambulance and the police…”

Her voice seemed to come from far away. I got to my knees, pulled myself upright by clutching at the couch and stood there swaying. Lurching like a drunk, I reached the kitchen and stared. Greg was lying on the floor in a pool of gleaming crimson liquid. The bone handle of my carving knife protruded from his neck. I could hear sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder by the moment. I hastily sat down at the table as my knees began to buckle, hands over my ears to block the sounds which suddenly intruded into my mind. Loud harsh voices. Words like divorce and fat and ugly. Worst of all... the laughter. You really thought the trip was for you? It’s for her, you stupid bitch.

Susie crept in and sat beside me, gently putting her hand on my arm.

I knew what to do. If I could go back to the tropical island, to a happy, safe time, everything would be okay. I retreated to the sun and the sand and the rhythm of the surf.

“It’s fine, Susie. Don't worry. I’m in a safe place.”